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“Sprinkles, why didn’t you tell me you were worried?”
Forcing myself to take a breath and clear my throat, I swallow hard. “I wanted to talk to you about it when I came down to the winery. The afternoon Greg got hurt.”
“Oh, Maggie. I’m so sorry.” Kel buries his face in the back of my hair. “You were hoping to talk to me, and I came at you guns blazing. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me about it.”
I flip around to face him, all my fear gone. This tender, loving, man is nothing like Frank. Nothing like any man I’ve ever met before. “I wasn’t scared. Not of your reaction. I wasn’t even really late that day—it was too early even to take a test.”
Kel tucks me under his chin. “Is that why you came back? To try and talk to me again?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything that night. I meant what I said—I didn’t want to leave things like that. And I had a feeling you were going to need someone to take care of you.” My words are muffled against his chest. We lay in comfortable silence while Kel strokes up and down my spine in a soothing rhythm.
Finally, Kel breaks the quiet, sliding a hand under my shirt to touch my skin. “So…now that we’ve got the big stuff out of the way. Can I ask what’s going on with the tax thing?”
I shrug against him. “It’s probably not as big a deal as I made it seem. But I opened the letters and panicked.”
“Can I do anything to help?” Kel slips a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You called me crying hysterically. It’s taking everything in me to ask and not demand that you let me help. I have money if you need to borrow some. Sutton pays me generously and won’t take a cent from me for rent. I’ve been tucking it away for Olive’s college fund and a rainy day.”
A giggle bubbles out of me and I squirm against the length of his body. “Unless you are intimately familiar with the state of Oregon’s payroll tax codes, I don’t think there’s much you can do. Monday, when I’m less stressed, and it’s not a holiday weekend, I will make phone calls and find out what I can do and if there’s anyone who can help me.”
Kel nods, kissing my forehead. “Do you know how it happened?”
I wriggle close so I can press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the stubble there tickling my lips. “I started the LLC in Washington, before I moved down here. The guy I’ve been using was an old college buddy of Frank’s. I never liked him much, but he seemed to be doing the job fine, so I left it instead of changing to someone else when I moved down here.” I tell him about the rest of the saga, curled up against him. Just explaining it to him is helping me calm down about it—maybe I’m not as much of a failure as it felt when I first opened those letters.
The soft kisses Kel keeps planting on my forehead, ears, and eyelids are helping, too.
I don’t know how long we lie like that on the bed, kissing and feeling our way back to each other. But it’s long enough for the fear and panic of the last week to dissipate and be replaced by butterflies.
“I feel so much better now,” I whisper to myself. My face is pressed against Kel’s pecs, my hands tucked beneath my chin. The ibuprofen is kicking in, easing both my cramps and my back ache. The usual heavy sensation in my labia from my period is transforming into a different kind of ache. An ache I’m not sure I want to do anything about. But I’m also not sure I don’t want to, either.
Kel chuckles and it rumbles against my nose, tickling me. “I feel better too.”
“Look at us, having an adult conversation. TV writers would hate us.” I untuck one of my hands, trailing my fingers up and down Kel’s arm.
He chuckles, goosebumps rising on his skin under my touch. “I think I’d rather be boring than full of drama because we don’t talk to each other. I’m not always the best at it—especially over text. But you make it easier than I’ve ever felt before.”
“I think I’d like a boring love story, too.” I tip my chin up. Kel is watching me, his soul in his eyes. Everything about being here with him feels right—like I’ve been waiting my whole life for his calm and quiet to settle the whirlwind inside me.
Dropping his head, Kel runs his nose along the length of mine, breathing me in. “So it’s settled, then? We’re doing this?”
I capture his lips with mine. This kiss is slow and unhurried. Because we have all the time in the world to explore and learn each other. Lazily, I slide my tongue along his bottom lip, the contrast between his soft skin and rough stubble sending shivers down my spine.
I pull back and smile. “Yeah. We’re doing this.”
Our lips meet over and over, each kiss a promise of days and nights together. Kel rolls me under him, careful not to crush me. My hands wander over his torso, sliding under his shirt. He grunts when I touch a spot on the side of his ribs.
Planting his knees on either side of my hips, he sits up and pulls his shirt off. A dark purple bruise spans the bottom of his rib cage and a long red scratch wraps around his torso, disappearing behind his back.
“Fuck, babe. That looks painful.” I reach out, my fingers hovering over his marked and mottled body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt—”
Kel cuts me off with a kiss. “I’m fine. Just be gentle.”
“I will be, I promise.”
Kel
“Did I tell you I met June and Shelby?”
I pause stuffing Maggie’s sheets into the washing machine—even though we put a towel on the bed, things got a little messy last night. “You did? Where?”
